


I'm a Loser Who Loves You

by kailogan



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band), Triple H (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Blowjobs, Jealousy, M/M, Making Out, Smut, dawnie is honestly a little shit, hui is oblivious and full of self-pity, this is cuter than it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kailogan/pseuds/kailogan
Summary: Enough’s enough. There were some levels that even Hwitaek wouldn’t stoop to and one of them was definitely ‘crying whilst listening the Beyonce’. He was better than that.Alternatively, Hwitaek thinks that Hyuna and Hyojong are fucking and is emo about it (feat. Hyojong's mission to get a kiss)





	I'm a Loser Who Loves You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TalesInInkAndStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesInInkAndStars/gifts).



> this totally got away from me, i'm so sorry
> 
> EDIT: can you believe i wrote this a couple weeks before hyuna and dawnie announced they're dating haha, anyways congrats to them!!!

“You’re pathetic,” Hwitaek said aloud, entirely to himself. He was alone in his studio and pretty certain that telling himself verbally just how pathetic he was, was only serving to make him more pathetically fucking pathetic. 

From the stereo speakers, Pink Floyd’s ‘Green is the Colour’ was playing loudly, the accented lyrics permeating Hwitaek’s eardrums almost painfully. He didn’t think he was crying but who could really be sure. The lyrics were hard to understand and he was missing most of the phrases, but the melody was solemn and the sound of waves crashing in the background of the track were certainly doing it for him. 

On the wall, the clock told him that it was nearing four in the morning. He had to be up in three hours for a recording schedule either way. There was probably no point going back to the dorm. Laying across the small sofa in his studio was already starting to hurt his back but he really didn't care. Hwitaek cursed himself for thinking dramatically, _It’s my heart that is truly hurting_. He wasn’t entirely sure when he had gone from being a fully grown man to lovesick, thirteen-year-old girl. 

The song drew to a close, melancholic and heart-breaking and yeah, Hwitaek was definitely crying. A few precious moments of silence fell, before Hwitaek was shocked from his reverie by a deafening klaxon-type sound. 

_Ring the alarm, I’ve been through this too long, but I’ll be damned if I see another chick on your arm…_

Enough’s enough. There were some levels that even Hwitaek wouldn’t stoop to and one of them was definitely ‘crying whilst listening the Beyonce’. He was better than that. 

He pulled himself up, walking over to tap the spacebar on the keyboard and stop the music. Clicking loudly, his back thanked him for the change of position as he sat down in his chair. The words ‘The Ultimate Jealous Playlist: 60 Jealous Love Songs’ glowed white against black on his screen, taunting him. 

He closed the Spotify window and slumped back. There was a slight stinging on his cheeks from the drying tears and, honestly, Hwitaek couldn’t care less. His heart was still aching, squeezing itself painfully in his chest as if someone had wrapped their fingers around it. Maybe it was time for another dirty habit. Hwitaek sighed, hating himself with all his might as he pulled out his phone and opened his photo library. 

‘DON’T BE A CREEP’ was the album’s title and he opened it quickly before the guilt could catch up with him. Inside, were nearing 300 photos and videos. Some were taken from photoshoots, but most had been snapped by Hwitaek himself. Whilst considering just how easy it would be to just run away from Seoul and become a fishermen somewhere on Jeju Island, Hwitaek opened one of the videos with a shaking finger. 

_“Hyung~” Hyojong drawled, smiling lazily in a way that the rapper knew made him look utterly adorable._

Yeah, Hwitaek really should look into the pricing of boat tickets. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

When Hyuna had stormed into the practise studio, months ago, to announce she wanted to form a sub-unit with Hyojong and Hwitaek, he had been ecstatic. It was an incredible opportunity and he had always respected Hyuna’s work ethic and technique. Working with her was a dream come true. It was a less than a year since Pentagon’s debut and the project would be a great promotion for the group. There hadn’t seemed to be any drawbacks. 

That was, until Hwitaek saw Hyojong and Hyuna together for the first time. He had always known they were close, Hyojong often calling their noona when he needed advice. The rapper always smiled whenever Hyuna was mentioned, but Hwitaek had understood. Training had been hard for Hyojong and he’d said that the female singer had always supported him. 

It hadn’t bothered him, hadn’t even crossed his mind that there might be something deeper to it until that first day. Hyuna’s arms wrapped round Hyojong tightly and the rapper’s face lighting up whenever she spoke. He leant into her touches like a puppy, eyes full of fondness and affection that Hwitaek had only ever seen directed at himself and their other members before then. 

Seeing the two of them together made Hwitaek feel like he was burning up from the inside. He didn’t feel that way when Hyojong clutched Hyunggu close to him, gripped Wooseok’s hand as they walked through the broadcast building together or kissed Yuto’s cheek when the taller man was cooking breakfast. It was just how Hyojong was; touchy and soft. It was why Hwitaek had to pad his chest with bubble wrap whenever Hyojong breathed warmly against his neck as he slept, knowing it didn’t mean anything. That it would never mean what Hwitaek hoped it would. 

With Hyuna, it seemed different. Perhaps just because Hwitaek assumed that Hyojong was heterosexual, that Hyuna being a woman meant there would of course be the potential for more. But Hwitaek didn’t think so. He saw it in the energy between them, the ease of the kisses Hyojong placed on her cheek during their music video filming. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

“You think they’re fucking?” Shinwon asked him during a break from their dance practise. Pentagon had come along to see how the choreography was looking and Hwitaek was sitting with them all, watching Hyuna and Hyojong continue to go through the steps together. 

“Language,” Jinho chastised absentmindedly, never being one to enjoy needless cursing. 

“What the fuck ever,” Shinwon waved him off, ignoring him as he usually did. “What, should I say ‘making love’ instead?” 

Hwitaek frowned at the phrasing. It was one thing to think there was something going on between the two. He could cope with them sleeping together. Bringing in words like ‘Love’ was another matter entirely. 

“They just seem close,” Changgu theorised, looking between the two dancing with a thoughtful expression. “I don’t think hyung sees her as anything more than a sister, though.” 

“You’re kidding,” interjected Hyunggu. “They are totally dating,” he said assuredly, gesturing to the pair. Hyuna was showing Hyojong how to move more fluidly in the verse section, her hands running over his chest and arms to direct his movements closely. 

Hwitaek noticed Hongseok nudging Hyunggu and giving him a warning look, shrugging his elbow in Hwitaek’s direction. Hyunggu looked between their leader and the two and looked sheepish. Hwitaek was unsure what that was all about. Could they see how much his heart was breaking as he watched? 

**(tentastic!!!)**

Hwitaek wasn’t used to feeling jealous. Despite all his ambition, bravery and hard-working personality, ahead of all of that, he considered himself to be kind. He cared deeply for others and he considered jealousy to be an ugly and cruel emotion. He was above such petty feelings and believed you should always be happy about others achievements rather than envious of them. 

But here he was, looking and Hyojong and Hyuna and just yearning. It was beginning to become a problem. He had never been skilled in controlling his face and he knew Hyojong noticed the hurt looks and sad smiles he wore during their Triple H activities. 

“You okay, Hyung?” he said, head nestled into Hwitaek’s shoulder as they sat in the back of the car. They were on their way back to the dorm from their first Triple H stage. 

“Mmm,” Hwitaek responded, staring out of the window and attempting to not think about the way Hyojong and Hyuna had such an effortless chemistry on stage. 

“Hui-Hyung,” Hyojong started. The elder continued to stare through the window. 

“What, Dawnie?” 

“Why won’t you look at me?” Hyojong asked, sounding small. 

Hwitaek sighed and turned to the younger, not wanting to upset the rapper. Hyojong looked utterly adorable, bottom lip stuck out sulkily and limbs swarmed in a loose, grey sweatshirt. It took a lot of Hwitaek’s self control to not look away again, so scared that if he kept looking at Hyojong, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from leaning in and kissing him. 

“It’s nothing,” Hwitaek assured. “Why don’t you get some sleep? Traffic looks pretty bad.” 

Hyojong huffed. He didn’t look like he believed Hwitaek in the slightest and didn’t appreciate the elder trying to change the subject. 

“You’ve been weird,” the rapper said. 

“I’m always weird.” Hwitaek laughed, hoping Hyojong would drop it. 

“Different type of weird. Edgy, short-tempered,” Hyojong explained, looking at Hwitaek like the singer was some kind of intricate puzzle. “You snapped at Noona twice today.” 

“Yeah, well…” Hwitaek didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t usual for him in the slightest and he couldn’t think of a single believable excuse. _Because she was all over you and I knew your hugs meant something that they will never mean between us. Because I’m so jealous it seems to burn._ Yeah, he didn’t think that would go down well. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped. 

Hyojong practically flinched, moving away from Hwitaek’s side with a hurt expression. 

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling his legs up so he could wrap his arms around his knees. 

_Fuck._ Hwitaek really couldn't do anything right, it seemed. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

So, Hyojong wasn’t speaking to Hwitaek. 

It had been two weeks of Triple H promotions and preparations for Pentagon’s approaching comeback and Hyojong only spoke to Hwitaek when he absolutely had to. Outside of music, dance arrangements and production choices, the younger hadn’t said a word to him, refusing to be alone with the leader for more than a few moments at a time. 

Hwitaek didn’t know what to do. Above everything, Hyojong was his best friend, the person he went to for everything. He was so tired. Being active in two groups at once was incredibly taking a toll and he couldn’t remember the last time he slept, the last time he had taken the time to savour a meal. At least he was eating, Jinho and Changgu always making sure of that. He knew everything would feel easier if he had Hyojong. He hadn’t touched the younger in any capacity since their discussion in the car and it was beginning to ache, the longing deep in his bones. 

“You want me to talk to him, Hyung?” Wooseok offered as they sat in Hwitaek’s studio, working on lyrics fro the upcoming album. 

“No, I…” Hwitaek sighed. “It’s my fault, anyway.” 

“Fix it, then,” Wooseok said, as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. 

“Yah! Be polite to your Hyung, brat,” Hwitaek yelped. 

Wooseok just sighed. 

“I can’t move for Hyungs around here,” he lamented. “At least let me call you out when I need to, Hyung.” 

Hwitaek had to concede to his point. Wooseok was right. He did need to fix it. 

He needed to fix it soon. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

_Okay, well maybe not today._

“C’mon, Dawnie!” Hyuna laughed, pulling Hyojong from his seat to dance with her. 

They were out for the day, on one of Hyuna’s suggested ‘team-bonding’ outings. Hwitaek hadn’t wanted to go, but their Noona wasn’t famous for being good at talking for nothing. It was a sunny day in Busan, all but perfect if not for the coldness in Hyojong’s expression whenever Hwitaek caught his eye. 

It was a secluded part of the beach, their managers currently on their way to pick up some food from a nearby restaurant. Hyuna and Hyojong were swaying together, along to the shitty quality music coming from Hyuna’s phone. The rapper’s hands were on her waist, smaller body wrapping around her. They were facing the sea, wind picking through their hair and mixing the strands in the air, yellow and orange twisting together. 

Hwitaek couldn’t stand it any longer, not even bothering to say anything before he got up and began his walk up the beach. 

The sun beat down on him, pressing heat into his skin despite the breeze. He knew he should be worrying about tanning, about the sun’s effect on his naturally pale complexion. He had concept aesthetics to think of, but he couldn’t find the energy to care. His feet sunk into the sand easily, the small grains almost burning his skin. 

L.A. had been hotter than this, but Hwitaek couldn’t help being reminded of it. The trip was a blur of happy and hurting, Hyojong’s laugh when Hwitaek spoke in his heavily accented english and the look on the rapper’s face when Hyuna posed for her photos. At least promotions would be over soon. Then he could go back to his happy (and Hyuna-less) life. 

If he could work things out with Hyojong, that is. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

“Where the fuck have you been?” Hyojong demanded when Hwitaek entered their hotel that night.

_Well, at least he’s talking to me again._ Hwitaek didn’t know how to answer that, so elected not to bother. Silence had seemed to be working on Hyojong’s end. Maybe it was time Hwitaek gave it a try. 

The silence lasted all of four seconds before Hyojong continued. 

“Aish, don’t ignore me, prick.” he practically spat, face red. Hwitaek was a little alarmed by Hyojong’s anger. 

“Sorry, I-“ spluttered Hwitaek.

“Don’t apologise yet, I’m trying to be fucking mad at you! And answer the goddamn question.” 

Hwitaek had never heard Hyojong speak like this, syllables hardened by contempt and every other character a curse. He wasn’t even speaking formally to Hwitaek. 

“I just went on a walk,” Hwitaek said, pushing past the younger to get to his bag. He looked through it in search of a change of clothes, thinking that he could escape to the shower. 

“You couldn’t tell us before you decided to wander off? You couldn't at least answer your damn phone?” 

“It was dead.” Hwitaek kept his back to him, knowing that the younger wouldn’t believe the lie. 

“Bullshit,” Hyojong hissed. “Me and Hyuna-Noona were worried, you piece of-“

“Why don’t you go room with her then if you hate me so much?” Hwitaek said the words without even really meaning to. They weren’t venomous, or vindictive. Instead, they were quiet and strained. Every syllable dripped with hurt and Hwitaek squeezed his eyes shut as he considered the implications. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Hyojong said finally, after a long pause. 

Hwitaek couldn’t take this anymore, gathering up his clean clothes and making for the door to the bathroom. Hyojong stopped him in his tracks, standing directly in Hwitaek’s path. 

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I left but-“ Hwitaek was cut off for a second time. 

“Is that really what this has been all about?” Hyojong said, teeth gritted. He stepped closer to Hwitaek, backing the older agains the wall, caging him in so there was no chance of escape. 

Hwitaek didn’t want to answer, didn’t know what to say. Things seems to be falling apart with every word that left his mouth. He really needed to buy those boat tickets and look up how to operate a fishing rod. _Jeju, here I come._

“You’re jealous.” Hyojong’s face was a handful of inches from his own, breath fanning across Hwitaek’s neck due to the rapper’s shorter height. Hwitaek felt his world come crashing down around him, his face draining of colour at the accusation. 

“I’m not-“

“Shut up,” Hyojong hissed, jabbing his finger into the centre of Hwitaek’s chest, his hand trapped between their two bodies. “I can’t believe you didn’t just tell me, we are supposed to best friends!” 

Hwitaek was confused. Hyojong didn’t sound disgusted. He was indignant, outraged, for some reason, seeming more hurt by Hwitaek keeping anything secret from him than he was about Hwitaek’s jealousy itself. 

“What?” Hwitaek couldn't stop himself from snapping. 

“You could have just told me, Hyung,” Hyojong said, anger seeming to have faded to be replaced by a deep sulkiness. Hwitaek was still struggling to come to grips with the situation at hand. “I would have happily backed off from Noona if I just knew how you felt.” Hyojong stated.

“You would have?” 

“Of course, what sort of friend do you think I am, Hyung? Come on.” Hyojong rolled his eyes, body finally backing away from Hwitaek, giving him room to breathe.

The leader felt warm at the use of the honorific, he had missed it for the weeks Hyojong had ignored him. It always sounded sweet and precious coming from the younger’s mouth. Hwitaek really didn’t understand why Hyojong was being so kind, so casual about this. Could it be that the rapper returned his feelings? 

“I obviously wouldn’t have acted so touchy-feely with Hyuna-Noona if I’d known you liked her.” 

_Oh._

“But you have nothing to worry about, Hyung. Me and Noona are just close, we don’t feel like that about each other so you don’t need to-“

“You think I like Hyuna?” Hwitaek blurted, unable to stop himself from interrupting Hyojong’s assurances. _Great, there goes your out, you idiot._

“Yeah? You just said-“ Hyojong cut himself off this time, eyes widening. “Oh…”

There was silence as Hwitaek watched the realisation settle in the rapper’s chocolate irises, witnessed the way the tension dripped from his face until his features were slack with pure and utter shock. Seagulls were crying out from beyond the window pane, the sharp shrieks not quiet able to drown out the steady sound of the ocean crashing against the beach. Hwitaek felt a little like time had slowed, but perhaps Hyojong was simply frozen in place. He twiddled his fingers just to check, not liking it when he saw them move at regular speed. 

Not being able to stand looking at Hyojong’s expression a moment longer, Hwitaek took the opportunity to turn on his heel and slip into the bathroom before Hyojong could stop him. 

The shower was loud, water hammering against old, white tiles. It still wasn't loud enough to stop the pounding in Hwitaek’s head, or the soreness settling deep in his chest. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

The rest of the night passed, silently. When Hwitaek had finally left the bathroom, Hyojong was in bed; body screwed up under the blankets and facing the wall beside him. Hwitaek got into his own bed, trying to ignore the slight itchiness of the cheap duvet cover that went along with the discomfort already under his skin. 

Hyojong’s breath was too quick, a too little unsteady for him to be asleep. He was thinking, the buzz of the thoughts turning in the rapper’s head becoming almost deafening. Hwitaek closed his eyes, desperate for sleep, hoping that he could wake him to a world where Hyojong was still his best friend, where everything was right. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

They were in a hurry to leave the next morning, their plane landing earlier than they expected due to a morning schedule with Pentagon back in Seoul. 

Hyojong hadn’t so much as looked in Hwitaek’s direction, only finding the strength to animate himself once they met with Hyuna outside the hotel. 

“Well, it was nice whilst it lasted, right?” Hyuna asked, resting her arm on Hyojong’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, Noona, thanks for making us come,” Hyojong smiled slightly, his mouth twisted a little strangely. 

“Yeah, thanks, Noona,” Hwitaek said, voice quiet. 

If Hyuna noticed the pair’s rather grey mood, she didn’t mention it, beginning to ramble on about some new music she was already working on. Hyojong listened to her attentively as they got into their car and headed to the airport. Busan’s landscape was unfurling beyond the window pane, ocean and sky twisting itself together in Hwitaek’s vision. His eyes were stinging. 

“I’m gonna miss you, once this is over,” Hwitaek heard Hyuna say, softly. 

“Me too, Noona,” Hyojong promised, the image of his head nestled into Hyuna’s neck visible to Hwitaek in the window’s reflection. 

“And you, Hui-ah, I’ll miss you too.” She smiled, nudging Hwitaek. Her hair was messy, red strands tracing across her forehead and cheeks as wind came in through the front window to tousle it. She was undeniably pretty, teeth showing in a kind smile that reminded Hwitaek of all the things he liked about her. Hyojong’s words came back to him. _You have nothing to worry about, Hyung…_

“Don’t get all doomsday about it,” he laughed. “We will do this again, Noona. I really enjoyed writing with you,” he said honestly. He had. Hyuna was a great artist and an even better friend, she had been a great support to him and given him lots of good advice on how to cope with the worse parts of business. She was caring, kind and Hwitaek felt terribly guilty that he’d let something at petty as jealousy come between them. Not having Hyojong, that would always be something that hurt, but Hwitaek decided in that moment, that no one else would have to suffer for that pain. 

Hyuna’s smile broadened at his words. She slipped her arm around his shoulder, the other bracketing Hyojong’s as she pulled them both in. Their heads were against her chest, faces close to each other. Hyojong didn’t avoid his eyes and Hwitaek was surprised that within them shone a deep fondness, an unbridled affection that Hwitaek hadn’t seen in months. 

“What will I do without my boys?” Hyuna lamented dramatically, pulling them even closer. Hwitaek winced a little at the awkward angle of his neck, but couldn’t help the warmth flooding him. It was the happiest he’d felt in a while. 

When Hyuna released them, Hwitaek allowed himself to look over at Hyojong fully. The rapper looked tired, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up so that only a few strands of golden hair were visible framing his face. His cheeks were a little flush and his eyes were bright, a wide grin settling on his face as he met Hwitaek’s gaze. 

_Perhaps things were going to turn out okay after all._ Hwitaek still burned with the urge to kiss the smile from the younger’s face, but things would be okay. As long as Hyojong still smiled like that, everything would be okay. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

Hwitaek was hoping that would be the end of it. 

In the next few weeks, it seemed like he and Hyojong were back to normal. The rapper hadn’t mentioned their argument in the hotel since, returning to his usual clingy, goofy ways around the elder. It was nice, getting back to the way they were supposed to be. Hwitaek still felt that pull in his chest when Hyojong laughed, couldn’t help the churn of his stomach whenever Hyojong unwittingly flirted with a staff member. But it was better than before, knowing that Hyojong didn’t love someone, that Hyojong didn’t think about touching someone the same way Hwitaek thought about touching Hyojong. 

It was all seeming to settle into a familiar routine until one night at the practise studio. The album was in it’s final stages of production and the Pentagon members were currently in the process of learning choreography to their newest single. It was late, Hwitaek practising with Hyunggu and Wooseok after the others had already left. Hyojong was still there, not practising, simply sitting against the back wall and playing on his phone.

Their main dancer walking the maknae through the harder steps, correcting his form as he went. Hwitaek was always amazed by Wooseok’s dance ability. Despite his long limbs and clumsy nature, he still managed to move with an accuracy and precision that was more than admirable. Hwitaek smiled, distracted from his own practise by watching the two younger members together. 

He was surprised when arms went around his middle, heat enveloping his back as someone’s body pressed against his. 

“You look pretty today, Hyung,” Hyojong whispered. 

_What the fuck…_

“Purple is such a good colour on you,” he continued, fingers tracing the lilac material of Hwitaek’s shirt, caressing his stomach gently. Hwitaek was frozen, unable to respond. The rapper only lingered there, holding him for a few more seconds, before releasing him and heading to the door. 

“See you at home, Hyung!” Hyunggu called out, always one to be polite whenever possible. Wooseok huffed a brief goodbye and Hwitaek was still speechless. 

After the door closed, Hwitaek could have sworn he saw a smirk gracing Hyojong’s face. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

Google searching _‘What To Do When Your Best Friend (Who You Are in Love With) Starts Flirting With You’_ honestly didn’t turn up many helpful results. Hwitaek was starting to lose it.

In the two weeks after the first incident, Hyojong’s behaviour had continued. Some particular memorable moments were as follows:

_“You look beautiful when you sing,” he said softly, lips brushing Hwitaek’s ear in the recording studio when no one was looking._

_“This is so good, I could kiss you!”_ came when Hwitaek had cooked a (very mediocre) meal of ramen and tteokbokki for him and the other members after a long schedule. 

And worst of all, _“Those jeans look great on you, Hui-Hyung, but they’d look better on my bedroom floor.”_

The most embarrassing part of which had been that Hongseok had been within ear-shot at the time and groaned loudly, exclaiming,

_“That’s my bedroom floor too, you know.”_

Hwitaek was very confused by the entire situation (hence, the late-night googling). He figured that Hyojong was teasing him for his crush on the younger, but that honestly didn’t seem like him. Hyojong didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Of course, he liked to tease and poke fun, but teasing Hwitaek in this way just seemed cruel. 

Hwitaek felt like he was missing something, just one puzzle piece absent from his mind, stopping him from stepping back and seeing the full picture. There was a subject missing from the equation (Hyojong + ??? + Flirting = ?) and without it, Hwitaek couldn’t possibly find the solution. 

**(tentastic!!!)**

The solution, it seemed, was that Hwitaek was a _fucking idiot_. 

“Hyung,” Hyojong began and Hwitaek felt dread build up in his stomach. The two were alone in the living room of their dorm, the others gathered upstairs. The rapper’s tone was smooth, syllables drawn out in a way that Hwitaek used to find unfamiliar, only now knowing it was synonymous with the sweet words about to fall from Hyojong’s mouth. Except this time, they never came. Instead, “When are you gonna get your shit together and kiss me?” were the words that slipped out from between Hyojong’s lips. 

Hwitaek choked on air, eyes bulging comically as he spluttered. 

Hyojong’s lips quirked upward, but he didn’t laugh as he usually would. He looked at Hwitaek, patiently, as if he expected an actual answer to that question. Hwitaek disregarded the blush he felt deepening on his cheeks and decided, that he had had enough. _He was a strong, independent man who didn’t deserve to be pulled about in this way!_

“Stop it, Dawnie, please.” _Well, that was very strong-willed. Great, well done, Hwitaek._

“Stop what?” Hyojong closed the space between them on the sofa, leaning in close. It reminded Hwitaek of their argument in the hotel, breath mixing together and chests touching. It reminded him of why Hyojong must be doing this, causing a crack to snap open across the surface of his heart. 

“Just because you know I-“ Hwitaek couldn't say it. “Doesn’t mean you can be like this. I know you don’t feel that way about me, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped tormenting me!” Hwitaek snapped, thanking himself fro finally finding the strength to form proper words. 

“I…What?” Hyojong looked extremely, extremely confused. He backed away from Hwitaek, studying the other’s face. Then, he burst out laughing. 

“Stop it, it’s not funny,” Hwitaek said, outraged. He was upset, near heart-broken, and Hyojong didn’t seem to care in the slightest. 

Hyojong kept laughing, pale face slowly reddening as he dissolved into hysterics. 

“I can’t believe you, throwing this all back in my face! Do you have any idea how-“ 

Hwitaek’s voice was cut-off, Hyojong’s laughter had silenced, their lips now occupied by being pressed together. 

_He kissed me. He kissed me. Oh god, he’s kissing me…_

Hyojong pulled back, eyes sincere, dark, filled with something that Hwitaek had seen there many times before. 

“Oh,” Hwitaek said, awed and a little dazed. “I’m a fucking idiot.” 

Hyojong didn’t seem to think that statement required a response, instead choosing to lean forward again and wrap his arms around Hwitaek’s shoulders. Their lips crashed together, Hyojong pulling himself up and into Hwitaek’s lap as he deepened the kiss. 

It felt surreal, kissing Hyojong after he had spent so long imagining it, thinking he would never experience the reality. The younger was more aggressive than he had expected, teeth digging into his lower lip almost painfully. Hwitaek felt overwhelmed with both sensation and emotion, his chest overflowing with _Hyojong please, Hyojong-ah, fuck, Dawnie…_

Then, as Hyojong moved down to begin placing kisses along the line of Hwitaek’s neck, the words spilled from his mouth without even meaning to. 

“Fuck, no idea how long I thought about your voice like this, begging me,” Hyojong groaned between kisses, pausing to suck slightly on different points. Hwitaek shifted under him, loving the feeling, wishing Hyojong could bite down on him and mark his neck. It was surreal, hearing that Hyojong wanted him, _feeling_ how Hyojong wanted him. 

“Did y-you really…?” Hwitaek gasped, back arching as Hyojong moved to press their bodies closer,  the noticeable hardness in Hyojong’s jeans now against his stomach. 

Hyojong hummed, kissing Hwitaek’s mouth again. It was sweeter this time, light. Hyojong’s hands moved from around his shoulders to the sides of his face, holding him. 

“Did I really think about you?” he asked, pulling away to look down at Hwitaek. The elder nodded and Hyojong tutted a little. “Of course I did, fuck I’ve wanted you since we were trainees, you idiot.” 

Hwitaek wanted to retort, argue that Hyojong hadn’t noticed that Hwitaek wanted him, to remind him that he had thought Hwitaek wanted Hyuna, but Hyojong was already kissing him again. 

Hwitaek couldn’t help but buck his hips up, finally lifting his arms to wrap around the younger, pulling him close. The moan that slipped from Hyojong’s lips when their hips made contact was rich, smooth and buttery. He keened, murmering into the kiss and burrowing his hands into Hwitaek’s hair. 

There was a small part of Hwitaek that wanted to break their kiss, to look into Hyojong’s eyes ask him to promise this was real. Even with the rapper’s nails scraping his scalp and their mouths pressed together, it was hard to come to grips with the idea of Hyojong finally being his. _Was he? Did this mean Hyojong could be his, or was this just for sex?_

“You’re thinking too loud, you always think to much,” the younger complained, pulling away and shuffling down so that his knees hit the wood-panelled floor. 

_Fuck._ Hwitaek wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think again after the image before him actually melted his brain. Hyojong’s hair was messy, cheeks ruddy with splashes of pinkish-red and lips already swollen. The loose t-shirt he was wearing had been pulled down on one side, revealing a strip of sharp collarbone and pale skin. He looked like a sin personified. 

“Can I?” he asked, hands on the inside on Hwitaek’s clothed thighs. He was on his knees, between Hwitaek’s legs, expectant. Hyojong’s lower lip was caught between his teeth as he worried it between them, nerves finally rearing their head. 

“Yeah, yes, fuck yes,” Hwitaek hurried, knowing he probably seemed pathetically desperate, but far past the point of caring. A ‘please’ lingered on the tip of his tongue. Hwitaek barely managed to contain it.

With a smile plastering itself across his face, Hyojong leant forward to unzip Hwitaek’s jeans and begin pulling them down. The elder didn’t have long to feel self-conscious after his boxer were worked down his legs, as Hyojong didn’t hesitate to wrap a hand around him. He bent down, quickly closing his lips around the head of Hwitaek’s dick and circling it with a pointed tongue. 

Hwitaek was overcome by the heat, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut at the heady pleasure of it. Absently, he registered that this probably wasn’t the first time Hyojong had done this as the younger was already beginning to bob his head up and down. Conscious thought was becoming a thing of the past for Hwitaek, his mind blurring with the tension building in his stomach. 

Hyojong released his dick from his mouth with an explicit popping sound, moving to trace the length of it with his tongue. Hwitaek bucked into the lighter touch. In response, Hyojong moved his hands to hold down the leader’s hips as he sank down around Hwitaek’s cock again. Hollowing his cheeks, the younger took as much of him in as he could manage and sucked. As he pulled up, the sharpness of the skin on his chapped lips registered slightly. Hwitaek hissed. 

“Aish, Hyojong fuck, shit please…” he babbled, unable to keep himself quiet any longer. Hot pressure was mounting in his gut, muscles tightening like the taut strings of an instrument. 

“Come on, Hyung,” Hyojong urged, moving back to speak before sucking him off faster than before. He removed his hands from holding Hwitaek down, allowing the leader to roll his hips upwards, half fucking Hyojong’s mouth. 

When Hwitaek came, he felt numbed. It was an intense, deep pleasure that seemed to make itself known to every cell in his body. Rather than hitting him suddenly, it sank into him gradually. He quaked with it, groaned loudly and released a yell of what could have been Hyojong’s name. The rapper swallowed around him and Hwitaek whimpered, trembling with the oversensitivity. 

Looking down was a mistake, Hwitaek realised as his dick twitched at the sight. Hyojong’s lips were wet and split slightly in one corner. There was cum on his chin and his eyes looked glassy. Hwitaek felt the image should be made illegal, felt that the way Hyojong had just _sucked his brain out through his fucking dick_ should be illegal. 

Hyojong looked up at him and licked his lips and Hwitaek just about died. 

As if suddenly realising the world around him existed, Hwitaek reached for Hyojong, pulling him to his feet. Hwitaek’s hand moving to the zip on the rapper’s jeans.

“Let me-“ he began, but Hyojong grabbing his wrist with a sheepish expression. 

“Uh, it’s okay.”

“No, really I want to,” Hwitaek pressed, causing Hyojong to blush deeply. 

“Really, Hyung, I…” He motioned downward. Hwitaek looked at Hyojong’s jeans, where the previously light-blue material covering Hyojong’s crotch was visibly darkened. 

_Okay, that’s fine. Hyojong just came in his goddamn pants whilst blowing me, but everything is fine._

“Sorry,” Hyojong grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly. 

“No, no, don’t be, that’s…” Hwitaek paused to take a deep breath, calming himself. “That’s really hot.” He was sure he was blushing darkly at the admission. 

Hyojong smiled brightly. 

A few minutes later, Hwitaek was fully dressed and Hyojong was leaving his bedroom after having changed. Nerves were broiling in Hwitaek’s chest, fears and questions swirling in his head. Whilst Hyojong changed, he had pulled out his phone speedily searched _What To Do When Your Best Friend (Who You Are in Love With) Gives you a Blowjob._ It had gone just about as well as the last time he had gone to google with his problems (although with slightly more x-rated results). 

Hyojong threw himself onto the sofa with a huff upon his return, head falling into Hwitaek’s lap. The elder froze awkwardly, unsure where to put his hands, unsure of just about everything. Hyojong noticed the tension, sighing and grabbing one of Hwitaek’s hands to place it on top of his head. After a couple of moments, Hwitaek began to move his fingers through the strands of blonde. It was comfortable and familiar. 

“So, uh,” Hwitaek broached after a few moments of silence. “Does this mean we are…?” 

“Dating? Together? Involved?” Hyojong offered amusedly. 

“Yeah, I know you said you, uh, wanted me, but do you, um…”

“Oh god, Hui.” Hyojong sat up, swivelling to face the elder. “I literally just let you cum in my mouth. What else do I have to do to make you realise that I like you?” 

“You like me?” Hwitaek pressed, still unsure. 

“Yes!” Hyojong cried, throwing his arms up in clear frustration. 

“Oh…Well, that’s good,” Hwitaek said dumbly. 

Hyojong shook his head, rolling his eyes. The rapper moved to settle into Hwitaek’s side, snuggling close to the singer. 

“Just to be clear, we are totally boyfriends, right?” 

“Hyung, we’ve been practically married for years, it’s a little late for that.” Hyojong laughed lightly. His hair was sticking up, causing Hwitaek’s neck to itch slightly. Hwitaek was still confused. 

“If we’ve been married for so long,” he reasoned. “Then why did you try and set me up with Hyuna?” 

“Because you were being weird! I didn’t know…I didn’t know you liked me too,” Hyojong said, nearly whispering the latter part. 

This was a difficult concept for Hwitaek to grasp. He’d always thought he was so obvious, that anyone would see, if they looked for more than half a second, just how much he worshipped the ground that Hyojong stood upon. 

“But you're you,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. _How could anyone not love you?_

“Yeah,” Hyojong laughed. “I’m me.” 

Hwitaek didn’t know what to say to that. The silence returned for a while, Hyojong’s arm slung over Hwitaek’s stomach and the elder’s finger’s carding through his hair again. There was a distant crashing from upstairs. Hwitaek winced to think about how much mess the others were making. 

“You think we left them alone for too long?” Hyojong eventually asked, obviously also hearing the noise. “They’ve probably set the kitchen on fire by now.” 

“I’m sure Jinho and Hongseok can handle it,” Hwitaek sighed, reluctant to let Hyojong move from his arms any time soon. 

“I’m sure,” Hyojong agreed sarcastically, smile colouring his words. 

Hwitaek settled into the warmth of Hyojong’s body against his. He sighed, letting the comfort wash over him. Every now and again, his brain would register the evening’s events and begin screaming in delight. He did his best to ignore this. He thought Hyojong had dealt with his dramatics quite enough for one day. 

_Perhaps I won’t be needing those boat tickets to Jeju after all…_

**(tentastic!!!)**

“By the way, you need to eat more strawberries or something, your cum tastes kinda awful.”

“Yah! Kim Hyojong!” 

**Author's Note:**

> well, that was a thing i guess 
> 
> hope you enjoyed my (pretty cracky and sub-par) debut in the world of pentagon. i love every single one of these boys so much and i just wanna give a shoutout to my boy yanan who wasn't mentioned for some reason, i love him too i promise 
> 
> this is dedicated to Talesininkandstars, my good friend and fellow kim hyojong enthusiast, enjoy hoe!!!!!


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